


Better Than Love

by killeleanor



Category: Les Misérables RPF
Genre: M/M, Minor Enjolras/Grantaire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-11
Updated: 2013-05-11
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:16:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killeleanor/pseuds/killeleanor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He catches Hadley staring at him sometimes, and it scares him because he wishes more than anything that he could stare back.  Instead, he gazes at his hands, guilt gnawing at his stomach as his eyes linger on the wedding ring that burns his finger.</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>He can only truly get lost in the other man's eyes when they're on the stage, pretending to pretend to be in love with each other.  He can’t tell if it’s Hadley or Grantaire asking himself permission to follow the path of his hand down Ramin’s neck with his eyes in front of a captive audience.  It makes his fists clench and he wonders if Enjolras would lean into the touch like he’s trying to stop himself from doing.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Than Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Screwtherules](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Screwtherules/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, Ellie! Hope you enjoy your hard copy of this!
> 
> As far as I know, this is only the second piece of fic for this pairing. I really hope there'll be more one day; this was really fun to write!
> 
> If you're interested, [this](http://8tracks.com/killeleanor/hadleyxramin) is the playlist for this fic.

London lies surprisingly dead before him as he flicks on the indicator more out of habit than necessity, turning right at the junction. The turn is perfect, but his body suddenly feels wracked with a tension not borne of physical symptoms. He hasn’t felt quite right for a long time now. It’s like there’s an itch under his skin, a constant tension in his shoulders and he knows what the reason is. He can’t lie to himself, not any more.

It’s nights like these he has to get away from everything, get away from the cast of Les Mis, get away from Enjolras’s ever-present passion for revolution, get away from Hadley Fraser. Every second spent in his presence is bittersweet torture. The casual and friendly touches between them have always thrilled him, just because of the taboo of it; a married man such as himself tracing Hadley’s knuckles with his fingertips in the most sensual manner is something he’s never really allowed himself to think about.

He’s grateful he’s been allowed to hire a car to traverse about the city on his days off; despite the constant traffic, there’s something liberating about being on the road on his own. For an hour or so, he can clear his head, forget about everything that’s bothering him. He finds himself singing along to mindless songs on the radio, catching himself as he remembers the indulgent smile Hadley would spare for him on such occasions when they were together.

It’s time to stop. He inhales deeply, as if steeling himself, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel and beginning to navigate his way back to the hotel. The producers have really splurged on their cast and crew this time, what with it being the 25th anniversary of the show, and he has his own room in the hotel. If it’s an adjoining room to Hadley’s, he tries to forget about it. Surely the man can understand if he wants to keep the door closed tonight. For the last few evenings, they’ve frequented each other’s hotel rooms, sitting with their shoulders and thighs pressed together on the bed, waiting for the character bleed to wear off, waiting to stop being Enjolras and Grantaire, waiting to stop being so doomed. When they both feel like themselves again, Hadley will squeeze his knee and nod before swinging his legs over the side and fetching them both a glass of water. Recently, it’s been taking longer and longer for this to happen.

“You were on fire tonight,” Hadley will say, and Ramin will nod, replying with something like, “You too, you were amazing.” Each night, it takes longer to get out of character, and Ramin’s worried that those extra seconds with the other man’s body heat seeping through his clothes to his skin are the reason for it.

He catches Hadley staring at him sometimes, and it scares him because he wishes more than anything that he could stare back. Instead, he gazes at his hands, guilt gnawing at his stomach as his eyes linger on the wedding ring that burns his finger.

He can only truly get lost in the other man's eyes when they're on the stage, pretending to pretend to be in love with each other. He can’t tell if it’s Hadley or Grantaire asking himself permission to follow the path of his hand down Ramin’s neck with his eyes in front of a captive audience. It makes his fists clench and he wonders if Enjolras would lean into the touch like he’s trying to stop himself from doing.

Startled, he finds himself pulling into the hotel’s underground parking lot, thankful that he’s made it back despite having paid no conscious attention to where he’s been driving. This has to stop.

He pulls the keys from the ignition, climbing out of the car and locking it behind him as he hurries to the elevator. He isn’t sure if he wants to get to his room so he can be alone or so that he can find Hadley. As it turns out, both of these things happen.

He’s sitting on his bed running through breathing exercises to try and calm down when he hears a knock on the door to his room. Curious as to who could be calling on him at this time of night, he peers through the spyhole to see Hadley standing there, eyes cast down. Strange that he should knock on this door rather than the one connecting their rooms, he thinks. He’s quick to unlock the door and open it, stepping back so the other man can enter.

“Forgot my room key,” he offers sheepishly as Ramin closes the door behind him.

The man’s standing too close to him, and he can smell faint traces of alcohol on his breath and clothes.

“I’ve only had a few,” he supplies, as if reading Ramin’s mind. “Just sat at the hotel bar for a bit. I waited for you after the show.”

“I’m sorry. I went for a drive. Fresh air, know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

An unasked question lingers in the air as Hadley looks around apprehensively, biting his lip and rubbing his hands together. He’s never been good at asking for things, never keen to impose.

“Would you like to sit together for a bit?” Ramin asks for him, watching the man’s posture relax as he nods.

He fumbles his shoes off on the way to the left side of his bed, settling down as Hadley joins him on his right. He scoots closer to the younger man, knowing he has to be the one to initiate the contact, much as it pains him. When Hadley presses closer, Ramin feels like he doesn’t want him to stop, pressing closer and closer until they’re one person. He squashes that thought as he captures sight of his left hand again.

There’s something different in the air tonight, perhaps influenced by his own inner turmoil, but it seems to settle as Hadley slouches and drops his head to rest on Ramin’s shoulder. This hasn’t happened before. He expects to tense at the intimacy of it, but instead pillows his cheek on the base of Hadley’s head.

“You okay?” Ramin murmurs.

Usually, it’s taboo to break this silence between them, but the atmosphere feels so intimate that he thinks it’s okay.

“Yeah. I just get too caught up in being Grantaire sometimes. This helps.”

“Me too.”

The silence stretches a few minutes more, the rhythm of their breathing having a lulling quality to it. After too long and not long enough, Hadley’s hand slides to Ramin’s knee, just resting there. Heat sears through to his skin at the extended touch, a tenseness building in his chest. He can’t help it; his own hand reaches to cover it just as Hadley starts to move it away. Instead, his hand turns so their palms touch and their fingers can entwine; it feels like the world is making sense for the first time and he closes his eyes to try and process it. This is where he’s meant to be.

Another unasked question hangs in the air as he feels Hadley’s head lift from his shoulder and he nods, wanting anything he has to give. Tentative lips meet the side of his jaw first, creeping up to the bottom of his cheek before catching the corner of his mouth. The angle’s difficult and he doesn’t think to move his head to help matters any. Hadley shifts, readjusting his grip on Ramin’s hand as the mattress moves beneath them, and his eyes blink open in surprise to find the man’s knees bracketing his thighs.

The hand that isn’t clutching onto his comes to pet at the side of his face, stroking down to his neck, fingers resting beneath the collar of his t-shirt. His eyes follow it, and the familiarity makes Ramin ache, his hand coming to rest on the other man’s hip to pull him in closer. He takes the hint, and Ramin gasps when their lips come crashing together, Hadley teasing into his mouth like he wants to devour him. It occurs to him that maybe he does, and he returns the kiss with increased fervour. Clearly this was the right move; a moan escapes Hadley and he presses closer still, hand trailing from the neck of his shirt to the hem of it, questioning almost. Instead of giving an answer, Ramin pushes his hips up into the touch, shivering as fingertips ghost the expanse of his stomach.

Desperate to reciprocate, his hands palm at the small of Hadley’s back beneath the fabric of his clothes, inching upwards and evoking a full body shiver as his fingers crawl higher. He drags his nails up and down gently, coaxing out more delicious shivers, before Hadley’s tearing their lips apart and thrusting his hands up Ramin’s shirt, insistent on its removal. His eyes darken with lust as he drinks in all the newly-exposed skin, skin that’s all for him in this moment, but Ramin’s tugging at Hadley’s shirt urgently; it’s okay if they’re equal, if they’re both to blame. He gets the message easily enough, smiling almost coyly as he tosses the garment aside.

It’s perfect. Ramin runs his hands up Hadley’s sides then crosses them over his back, drawing them into a close embrace. It’s immediately reciprocated, Hadley sighing into his neck as he secures his arms around him. This is really happening. As he feels Hadley trace hearts on his back, it dawns on him that this is his best friend and he’s never felt more complete. They’ve held each other like this a thousand times; the only difference is that this time, there are fewer items of clothing involved and he can feel the thick outline of Hadley’s cock pressing into his. He bites his lip.

“Is this okay?” Hadley whispers, lips catching on his earlobe.

Ramin nods. Nothing will let him deny Hadley this, especially not when he aches for it as well. It’s all the permission Hadley needs. Hot, open-mouthed kisses are trailed down his neck and to his collarbone, teeth nipping at the skin intermittently. The angle doesn’t allow for much manoeuvrability, and just as this starts to frustrate Ramin, his friend shimmies down the bed and finds space between his legs, hands grabbing onto his hips and roughly pulling him into a lying position. In this brief interlude, he catches sight of the ring on his finger glinting in the light, but before his stomach has time to lurch, Hadley’s mouth has latched onto his chest, tongue swiping at a nipple. He bucks upwards, straining to get Hadley’s mouth closer, anywhere, everywhere. His hand pets slowly downwards, working steadily to his lower stomach.

Lifting his head from Ramin’s chest, he smiles down at him in a seductive manner and rubs his hand over the prominent bulge. He knows what he’s doing and knows he’s driving Ramin crazy. He’s the one in control and it works better for Ramin that way. Ramin’s head thrusts backwards and Hadley lowers himself to attack the exposed neck, eliciting moans as his teeth graze the skin. One-handed, he manages to pop the button on Ramin’s trousers, reaching inside and exposing his erection to the rapidly heating air around them. Hadley draws back again, catching his new lover’s gaze before shimmying further down on the bed. His mouth lingers above Ramin’s cock and Ramin tenses in anticipation, bracing himself because this is actually going to happen; it’s not part of a disjointed fantasy he’s found himself prone to recently.

The sight of Hadley’s lips stretching around him as he sinks down is obscene and he closes his eyes against it, because combined with the hot wetness, he isn’t sure if he would be able to stop himself from coming. He’s unsure if he’s grateful for the younger man’s skill or if he’s jealous of whomever he practiced on in the first place. Unless he’s naturally this good, which is entirely possible. He takes naturally to most things, and with a quiet determination. He tries sinking down further and gags a little, which should put Ramin off, but instead it sends a jolt of electricity through him. To compensate, he wraps his hand around the base of Ramin’s cock, jerking it in time with the bobs of his head.

“Hadley,” Ramin groans.

The hum Hadley lets out is more of a moan and he sucks harder. Ramin swears he’s going to lose it any minute but Hadley pulls off him and grins with swollen lips. Making sure Ramin’s dick brushes his lower stomach as he does so, he moves up his body again and whispers into his ear.

“I want to fuck you. Will you let me?”

Yes. Without a doubt yes. He nods, but he knows it will hold more meaning if he says it out loud.

“Yes, I want you to. I want you.”

As he says this he raises a hand to Hadley’s cheek, bringing their mouths together once more. This gesture along with the words brings forth a whimper from his lover’s lips which he swallows, bringing the man still closer.

Slowly, his hands make their way to the back of Hadley’s pants, pushing down. He breaks away from the man’s mouth to murmur, “off” into his ear, hands moving to touch his chest and push him backwards. He pushes at his own pants, getting them down to his knees as Hadley peels off his socks. Now unclothed, he finishes removing Ramin’s trousers, casting them aside and ripping the socks off as well. Apparently remembering something important, he ducks down and retrieves his earlier-discarded jeans, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out a travel-sized tube of lubricant. He looks uncomfortable.

“I- I wasn’t planning this,” he assures Ramin hurriedly. “I just hoped, well…”

“It’s okay. I know.”

Now that they’re taking a break from the heat of the moment, there’s a sweet uncertainty lingering around Hadley, wondering if he’s allowed to continue. It’s offering Ramin a chance to back out as well, and he knows he should take it – his ring finger burns again – but seeing Hadley so unassuming and gorgeous before him, he knows he can’t pass this up. Instead, he holds out his hands in invitation, pleased when Hadley kneels between his parted legs and takes them. They don’t break eye contact as Ramin brings each hand to his mouth and kisses it, first the left and then the right, drinking in how Hadley’s eyes seem to brighten. He lets go of the left hand and unfurls the fingers on the right, parting his lips and drawing two of them into his mouth, sucking in a way reminiscent of Hadley’s previous ministrations on his cock.

His tongue moves between them with intent and he watches Hadley toss his head back as his free hand moves to the man’s so far neglected erection, stroking it in time with the movement of his tongue.

“Do it,” he says, once he’s sure Hadley’s fingers are adequately coated.

The man nods, pausing to kiss the corner of Ramin’s mouth before situating himself lower down. A finger circles and teases his waiting hole before inching in slowly. It’s strange, almost intrusive, but he adjusts quickly with a few gentle thrusts, Hadley’s gaze constantly flicking up to his, checking he’s okay. A second finger joins the first, uncomfortable but not intolerable. Hadley falters for a moment, the movement causing his fingers to brush somewhere that makes Ramin see stars. Catching on, he aims for that spot again, hitting it dead on over and over. Ramin barely notices when a third finger is added, feeling so close already. Hadley’s hand slows and finally withdraws from him, causing Ramin to whine in a way he’ll be embarrassed about later. He opens his eyes to see his best friend uncapping the lube from earlier and coating his leaking cock with a liberal amount.  
It’s too much to take.

“Now, please,” he insists, reaching forwards to grab at Hadley’s cock.

“Christ, Ramin.”

He’s quick to position himself, but pushes in at a slow pace that is agonising for the both of them. Ramin bites his lip at the burning stretch, but grabs Hadley’s hips to pull him in the rest of the way. They both gasp at the sensation, adjusting to just how overwhelming it feels. Desperation underlies his movements as he leans over Ramin to kiss him, lips hard and certain against his own. It’s more like a reassurance of proximity than a kiss, but its sincerity is impossible to ignore.

Gradually, Ramin relaxes and nods, permitting the younger man to move. He pulls out most of the way before driving back in, more forcefully than either of them had been expecting. The sensation of being connected like this is beyond words, like clouds parting to reveal the sun, casting everything into clarity. The light burns behind his eyes as Hadley thrusts again, hitting that spot that makes him come apart, over and over. He wants to reciprocate, be more involved, pull Hadley down and kiss him, maybe get on top of him, but despite the euphoria he can’t fight, there’s something gnawing at the back of his mind.

If Ramin lets Hadley take control, he’s not cheating (and that’s the first time he’s addressed that this evening). He tries to tell himself this, but when his hands find the younger man’s seemingly on their own accord and crazed eyes meet again, the untamed passion bursts out at him and he knows he’s too involved now to back out. Hadley pins his hands to the pillows on either side of his head, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Ramin can tell his mouth is itching to form those three syllables that will truly cement this as being real, but he doesn’t think he can bear to hear them right now. He covers Hadley’s mouth with his own, hoping he understands. Hadley keeps kissing him as he thrusts, skin sticking to skin, no space between them. Somehow though, he disentangles one hand from Ramin’s and snakes it between their stomachs to encircle his weeping member.

A few rough jerks in time with increasingly erratic thrusts is all it takes for Ramin to spill between them, hips thrusting upwards as he clenches around Hadley, who follows seconds later. He collapses on top of Ramin, and they share each other’s breath in the minutes it takes to collect themselves. With reluctance, he pulls out and moves to lie next to Ramin. Before he can mourn the loss of contact, he’s pulled into the other man’s arms, head on his shoulder and arm draped over his chest. He could lie there forever, letting Hadley kiss ‘I love you’s into his hair, but then the enormity of what they did dawns on him and his body is wracked with tremors.

“It’s okay,” Hadley murmurs, planting his lips to his head more solidly.

Ramin nods, but he still can’t stop shaking. Slowly, he sits up, petting clumsily at Hadley’s torso and not quite leaving the loose grip of his arm around him. Now upright, he twists off the ring on his finger and it clatters onto the bedside table where he drops it. Hadley takes his free hand and squeezes. Ramin squeezes back. Enough of the tension fades for him to smile back at Hadley when their eyes meet, even if his lips still quaver. He still doesn’t feel quite right, not yet, but he can relax himself enough to curl into Hadley’s side again and rest his head on his shoulder.


End file.
